


Not That Girl

by Olicity1013



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 17:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olicity1013/pseuds/Olicity1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity reflects on the women in Oliver's life...and her place in it. (ANGST based off 2x06).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not That Girl

**Author's Note:**

> The song 'I'm Not that Girl" from _Wicked_ came up on the iPod at the gym. Spent most of the time on the elliptical trying to get this idea out of my head. Made a video for it which you can find at: 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gA4vccZHEnU
> 
> Then decided to write a story based off the video just because. Maybe some OC for Felicity, but I think the girl would enjoy musicals. And I needed to write something after 2x06.

Felicity smoothed the skirt of her dress as she settled into her seat. Looking around, she felt herself relaxing for the first time since returning from Russia. The theater was crowded with people of all ages, laughing, talking, and smiling at each other. She didn’t recognize any of them and for that was thankful. She really wanted to be anonymous tonight, to get lost in a fantasy world for a few hours where nothing mattered. And the fact that one of her favorite musicals was in Starling City for the weekend only made it that much better.

As she waited for the show to begin, she couldn’t help replaying the past few days in her mind. Despite how confused she felt, she didn’t regret asking Oliver why he’d slept with Isobel. She’d needed to know if there was any hope of things getting back to a somewhat normal state between them. She hadn’t been prepared for his answer, however. She’d replayed those words over and over in her head, wondering if she should interpret them one way or another. She’d lost several nights sleep over the matter and still had no idea how to take his reply.

What she did know was that, contrary to what people might believe, most of her reaction stemmed not from jealousy, but from the fact that Oliver truly didn’t think he was worthy of having a relationship with someone who actually cared about him. It hurt her to think he thought so little of himself, despite what they’d been doing for the past year. It made her angry as well, knowing it was an excuse to keep people at bay, to wallow in his self-imposed pain that in her mind, he wasn’t all that ready to give up, no matter what he might say.

And if she were honest, some of that hurt came from the fact that it had been Isobel he’d chosen to sleep with. The woman who was not only trying to take over his company, but hadn’t had one good word to say about her. She’d literally implied she was Oliver’s whore that night leaving his hotel room not to mention taking every chance she could to paint the picture that Felicity had slept her way to the executive position. Felicity wasn’t stupid, she knew most of QC thought that, but she’d managed to ignore the jibes and innuendos, the whispers that stopped when she entered the cafeteria or a room. It hurt, but she’d learned to push that down, realizing her work with Oliver was more important. Her reputation could suffer it helped the city gain its hero. But to know Oliver had willingly slept with someone who so obviously hated her, that’s where the hurt stemmed from.

As for the jealousy factor, well, she wouldn’t be human if she didn’t admit that it factored into the situation. However, she knew, had always known, that Oliver Queen would never see her as more than a friend, for so many reasons she couldn’t even begin to count. And she didn’t know if she wanted him to, as it was certain to affect the friendship they’d forged over the past year. Not to mention she knew as well that Laurel Lance was still the only woman Oliver would truly allow himself to love. They were destined, fated, and most of Starling City, according to the gossip magazines, thought so too.

Felicity knew she couldn’t compete with Laurel. She never really wanted to try. She’d accepted who she was and what her place in Oliver’s life was…and she was happy with that. All she wanted was Oliver to be happy, and if, despite the hell they seemed to make each other’s lives, his happiness was Laurel, she wouldn’t stand in the way. She wasn’t denying it wouldn’t hurt, in the place she’d buried and locked away any feelings she might have for her boss, but she’d be okay with it. Much more okay than with him sleeping, even if it was ‘meaningless sex,’ with Isobel.

The sound of the orchestra tuning up brought her back to the present and she pushed thoughts of Oliver, Isobel and Laurel to the back of her mind. She wasn’t going to think about anything but the tale unfolding on stage in front of her. Relaxing into her seat, she allowed herself to be transported to Oz.

Almost an hour later, she found herself entranced in watching Elphaba try to reconcile her feelings for Fiyero, until the familiar strains of one of her favorite songs from “Wicked” began. And suddenly, it wasn’t fictional characters on stage she saw in her mind.

_Hands touch, eyes meet,_  
 _Sudden silence, sudden heat_  
 _Hearts meet in a giddy whirl,_  
 _He could be that boy,_  
 _But I’m not that girl._

She could feel the way her heart pounded at realizing the Hood was really Oliver Queen, wounded, in the back of her car. Still feel his hand in hers as he’d thanked her for saving him. Feel his touch on her shoulder as he’d told her she could talk to him about her day if she wanted. Their friendship had been formed and tested those first few months, but she’d felt honored to be inside Oliver’s inner circle. To be the one woman he trusted with his secrets.

She remembered finally meeting Laurel, THE Laurel that was the woman who had gotten Oliver through five years of hell. She could still see the confused way Laurel had looked at her when she’d appeared in Verdant to ask Oliver a question. She’d immediately been self-conscious but had shrugged it off with a ramble. She knew where Laurel stood with Oliver and she’d accepted it. She’d had a moment of wistful thinking but that had quickly been locked away as she’d come back to reality.

_Don’t dream, too far,_  
 _Don’t lose sight of who you are_  
 _Don’t remember that rush of joy_  
 _He could be that boy,_  
 _I’m not that girl._

After his second island stint, she knew their relationship had changed. He was more touchy-feely with both her and Diggle. He’d opened up a bit more since Sarah had returned, although she ached for the pain the two had gone through in the ensuing five years. Despite her frustration at being moved out of IT, she’d done her best to make sure she was the best Girl Wednesday she could be. Which meant protecting Oliver from Isobel’s questions and accusations. She could still see Isobel’s confused expression as she’d wiped blood off Oliver’s face at the party that night. But she had to admit to the small burst of satisfaction that she felt at seeing Isobel’s look, watching them all evening. It felt almost as good as the way Oliver would laugh and tease her with stupid excuses before he’d revealed himself to her. She wasn’t oblivious to his charm, although she was wary of it. Everything had changed when he’d taken her into his inner circle and trusted her with some of his secrets, be they from the island, to crazy ex-girlfriends, to his family.

She’d been through all of Oliver’s women so far, and she couldn’t say she was impressed with his choices. Not that she had any room to speak as Oliver’s love life was his own. And she really didn’t care who he slept with as long as it didn’t put her life in danger. She was glad, however, that Helena wasn’t around. That woman had terrified her. But, once again it had driven home just how much she was NOT Oliver Queen’s taste in women.

_Every so often, we long to steal away_  
 _To the land of what might have been_  
 _But that doesn’t soften the ache we feel_  
 _When reality sets back in._

But there were moments, moments when she had to admit, she could have allowed her feelings to escape her, to indulge in seeing a side of Oliver no one else, other than Digg, did. Working together, out in the field especially, made her feel like she was in some sort of crazy novel, although the outcome was real and dangerous. She could still see his concerned expression on Oliver’s face as she’d prepared to walk into the casino to get information on Walter. Remembered her awkward comment that had quickly been forgotten as she’d struggled to keep calm while the mob boss was threatening her life. It had felt like a movie, in which she and Oliver were the stars, and she was just waiting for him to do his part and take out the bad guy-as she’d already gotten the needed information. Then it was the moment they’d shared at thinking Walter was dead. She could still see the reality of the words settling in as he’d looked at her, pain clear in his eyes although his body was tense. Her own emotions had been close to the surface, but in that moment she’d taken small comfort in the fact that she wasn’t alone, that Oliver missed Walter too.

_Blithe smile, lithe limb,_  
 _She is winsome, she wins him,_  
 _That’s the girl he chose_  
 _And heaven knows_  
 _I’m not that girl._

The melancholy words suddenly made her think of how Isobel must have smiled and looked at Oliver in Russia to make him feel that they had loneliness in common. Made her think of how Laurel must have looked when Oliver had confessed he’d never stopped loving her before taking her to bed—despite having told Tommy to try again with his ex. Laurel was the girl he chose and she would always win him in the end, she’d known that from the start, and she was okay with that. At least, she was more accepting of it than of him having anything with Isobel. She didn’t want to analyze why suddenly Laurel was the lesser of the two evils.

_Don’t wish, don’t start_  
 _Wishing only wounds the heart_  
 _I wasn’t born for the rose and pearls_

She felt the pain, fresher than she’d like, wash over her as the words drew to mind the look on Isobel’s face as she’s swept past her from Oliver’s room, dress still half-unzipped. It had taken her a moment, but she’d managed to respond with her ‘what happens in Russia’ quip, turning and getting away from Oliver before he could read the expression on her face clearly, and most likely misinterpret her feelings. Not jealousy per say, although maybe a little, but more her disappointment at his choice.

_There’s a girl I know  
He loves her so_

Her mind then turned to Laurel, to watching Oliver’s concerned expression that night at the party as he’d talked to her. It was so clear he cared so deeply for her, it had made her reluctant to interrupt, but her revelation about who the newest vigilante might be targeting was too important not to. She knew he’d want to know if someone or something was stalking or threatening the woman he loved. And once more, she’d realized, looking at all the people around her, and the look Laurel had given her at her interruption, that she was well out of her league here amongst Starling City’s elite. Or Oliver Queen’s love life.

_I’m not that girl._

She might be Oliver’s Girl Wednesday, but she wasn’t, as the song said, ‘that girl.’ The girl that would find happiness with Oliver Queen. And she honestly couldn’t say who that would be, only that it would have to be someone better than Isobel, if not Laurel once she’d figured out her life. For a moment, just a second, she wondered, deep in her heart, if she COULD be that girl. But then she locked that emotion away, his words fresh and clear from their conversation earlier that week. She wasn’t that girl, she couldn’t be, and even if she might be, he wasn’t ready for her. If he would ever be ready for any girl for something more than just sex.

That was what depressed her the most. The thought that Oliver would cheat himself out of a happy, healthy relationship because he thought he didn’t deserve it. That he didn’t believe in himself as much as she and Digg did. That he apparently didn’t trust her enough to believe her when she told him he was a man who deserved better, much better, than Isobel.

Even if it wasn’t her.

She came back to the present as the orchestra finished with a flourish and the lights came on signaling intermission. She felt several tears on her cheeks and reached into her purse for a Kleenex, noting many women and a few men, were doing the same.

So much for forgetting about her situation for the evening. She sighed, pushing the emotions down and deciding to hit the lobby for a bathroom break and some water. She’d hopefully gotten it out of her system and could concentrate on the residents of Oz during the second half. Rising, she joined the crowd moving towards the lobby, once again looking around, glad she hadn’t recognized anyone. Not that she actually knew a lot of people in the city, but it never hurt to be careful and observant of her surroundings. Digg and Oliver had taught her that.

She was waiting in line for a bottle of water when she heard someone clear his throat behind her. Turning, she thought, for just a moment, it might be Oliver. Why, she didn’t know, but she couldn’t stop the jump of her heart as she looked towards the sound. She was disappointed for a second to see a handsome, smiling young man staring at her with an amused look. Quickly gathering herself together, she gave him a confused look, wondering if she should know him from somewhere.

“Sorry, it’s just, you’re far too lovely to be here alone.”

Felicity rolled her eyes at the obvious pickup line and was about to turn away when he gave her a pleading look.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from, usually I’m not so stupid when I try to meet a girl,” he offered, a bashful look taking over his features.

She had to admit, he was pretty cute. And he seemed interested. And he was at _Wicked_ , obviously, hopefully if he was hitting on her, by himself.

“Well, considering you’re by yourself and at _Wicked_ , I think I might give you the benefit of the doubt.” She gave him a smile, pleased to see she got one in return. He really was handsome.

“So, will you let me buy you a water?”

She gave him a long look, before nodding. Something told her he wasn’t going to be any trouble, and she had to admit, it felt good to have someone looking at her like a desirable woman. Or at least a woman a man wanted to talk to.

“Okay, but just water. Wouldn’t want to be too forward as I don’t usually accept drinks from strange men…”she trailed off as he smiled.

“Then let me introduce myself, Barry Allen,” the man replied reaching out to shake her hand.

Felicity smiled at the strength of his grip and the genuine smile on his face. “Felicity Smoak,” she replied as he moved up next to her.

As they waited, they began to talk and Felicity found herself enjoying the fact that it was extremely easy to talk to Barry. Once she found out he was a crime scene analyst, who had a love of computers, she’d eagerly started talking IT and was happy to find he matched her thought for thought. Once they’d purchased the water, they’d moved to the side of the lobby and continued talking. Felicity, always aware of her surroundings, noticed the interested looks Barry was getting from some of the women around them, and wondered if he’d noticed. But his eyes remained on hers, completely oblivious to the other women checking him out. She felt an inner satisfaction at the thought he was completely focused on her.

When the lights blinked, she found herself reluctant to leave, especially as they’d just been debating the merits of several different computer search programs. He really was one of the few men she’d ever met that could match her word for word, idea for idea. It was rather intriguing and made her want to get to know him better.

“I guess we should head back,” she managed reluctantly, smiling as he slid an arm through hers and led her towards the doors. Somehow, it didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable at all.

“Felicity, I’d really like to get to know you better. Would you have coffee with me after the show?”

His voice was earnest and his expression eager, and for the first time in a long time, Felicity enjoyed the feeling of being wanted for her company, her intellect, and hopefully her very expensive new dress that revealed her curves nicely if she said so herself.  
“Of course. As long as you realize I’ll probably be a mess by the end of the show. I always am.” She gave him a small smile as he led her to her row. To her surprise, he squeezed her arm and leaned in close.

“I’ll look forward to making you smile then, Felicity Smoak,” he replied, winking before turning and heading for his seat, several rows back and to the right.

She watched him go, feeling something in her heart flutter as he waved to her when he’d settled into his seat. The smile was still on her face as the lights dimmed and she settled in for the second half.

Maybe, just maybe, she had a chance to be ‘that girl’ … at least for someone, for tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this was based off a video I did (link in beginning notes)...which you might enjoy watching after reading-if you didn't watch it before! Up to you, but thanks for taking a moment to at least read my ramblings post 2x06. (You can also check out my Tumblr/Twitter (olicity1013) for fic updates and teases as well as lots of Olicity thoughts!)


End file.
